


Sincerity

by shannon730 (Shannon)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Drama, F/M, Romance, Spoilers, Tragedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-12-31
Updated: 2007-12-31
Packaged: 2018-10-01 01:56:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10178045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shannon/pseuds/shannon730
Summary: Draco realizes he's made mistakes and tries to rectify them. There is violence and character death, but only what is actually canon.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note from SeparatriX, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [HP Fandom](http://fanlore.org/wiki/HP_Fandom_\(archive\)), which was closed for health and financial reasons. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [HP Fandom collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/hpfandom/profile).

Draco ran through the halls, ignoring the fighting going on around him. He had to find her, had to make sure she was safe. He wasn't going to let her die because he wasn't strong enough to stand up to his father; to tell his family he wasn't going to follow them to their destruction by believing in a lunatic. He had known this wasn't what he wanted since the summer after his fifth year. The day the Dark Lord had threatened to murder his mother if he didn't kill Albus Dumbledore, Draco knew things had changed

He'd tried to kill Dumbledore, he'd had no choice, not really. It was his life or his Headmaster's. He'd spent a lot of time watching things that year. Watched everyone, particularly Potter, Granger, and Weasley, and he'd learned a lot about them. Some things he already knew, like Potter and Weasley were useless without Granger to tell them what was happening. Other things that he knew, deep down, but had been denying because his family had told him it was wrong, like that Granger was one of the smartest, most powerful witches he'd ever seen. 

His realization had led to a grudging respect and now, he could even admit that he'd had a little crush on her. It had begun before last year if he was going to be completely honest. A part of him had been happy to hear that Granger hadn't turned herself into the Ministry to prove herself with the other muggle-borns. He'd read of the break-in at the Ministry and had known it was them, known she was probably the mastermind and he'd been happy. Happy that she was alive; happy that there was a chance she might lead Potter into actually defeating the Dark Lord. Then she'd been caught and he could've saved her but didn't.; the memory came flooding back; a memory of his own lack of courage.  
****  
 _They had all heard the voices outside and his mother had gone to see who was there. He could hear them when she opened the door, "We're here to see He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named!" It was Greyback's voice.  
His mother continued to question them, not wanting to let them in. Like him, she wanted this to just be over, hoping that Potter would win this war and they'd get their lives back. Pureblood control wasn't worth the cost to them anymore; it was something they'd talked about since he'd returned home for the holidays. "Who are you?" _

_"You know me! Frenrir Greyback! We've caught Harry Potter!"_

_That caught his attention again. They had Potter? Did they have Granger as well? If they'd caught Potter then he had nothing to look forward to but life as a virtual prisoner in his own home; a life under the control of the Dark Lord. But if Granger was still free, he could hold on to some hope. If anyone could find a way to get Potter out alive, it would be her. He had to hold on to the hope that she was still free; still alive. If Greyback realized who she was, he may have just killed her on sight. The only thing that could save her would be his greed; he'd want the reward money._

_"My son Draco, is home for his Easter Holidays. If that is Harry Potter, he will know."_

_"What is this?" His father rose first and faced the visitors. Draco was avoiding it; avoiding facing what he knew he'd see._

_"They say they've got Potter. Draco, come here."_

_Draco reluctantly left the relative safety of his armchair and faced the prisoners. Three of them; they had Granger. His heart sank. They'd at best, send her to Azkaban with the other muggle-borns, but more than likely she'd be killed. His hopes were all killed at that moment. His hope of being free; his hope of ever leading a normal life, of having friends that respected him for who he was, not his family name._

_"Well, boy?" Or was there something he could do? They wanted him to identify them. They weren't sure they had the right people. Maybe hope wasn't lost…_

_It was them, he had no doubt about it. Weasley and Potter's faces were distorted but he'd know them anywhere, he'd seen them every day for six years. Granger had obviously tried to disguise them but didn't have time to do herself. All he had to do was say 'no' and it would be over. They were all of age so no one could prove they were meant to be at Hogwarts, as long as they stuck to whatever names they'd given they wouldn't find them on the list._

_"Well, Draco?" Now his father was looking at him, his eagerness to be the one to turn in Potter evident, "Is it? Is it Harry Potter?"_

_Just say 'no', that's all he had to do, one simple word but, "I can't—I can't be sure," were the words that came out. As much as he wanted to be free of the Dark Lord, and to save Hermione Granger's life he couldn't crush his father's hopes so easily._

_"But look at him carefully, look! Come closer!" His father wasn't going to let this go, he wanted him to identify the prisoners. Wanted him to turn them over, his father still held on to the hope that there was a way to get back in the Dark Lord's good graces. "Draco, if we are the ones who hand Potter over to the Dark Lord, everything will be forgiv—"_

_"Now, we won't' be forgetting who actually caught him, I hope, Mr. Malfoy?" Greyback interrupted._

_His father began arguing with Greyback and Draco stopped listening. His only thoughts were of what would happen to Granger if he didn't get her out of here. If they believed that it was Potter it was only a matter of time before they realized who she was as well. Now his mother was talking. Urging his father to be certain, the Dark Lord wouldn't be happy if they called him and they were mistaken. Shit, they were focusing on Granger now, because her face wasn't distorted._

_"What about the Mudblood, then?" Greyback asked._

_"Wait. Yes—yes…"_

_His mother recognized her. Hope was rapidly disappearing again. "Draco, look at him, isn't it Arthur Weasley's son, what's his name—?"_

_He couldn't do this anymore. He didn’t want to see them turned in but at the same time his mother and father were now fairly certain and continuing to lie would just make things worse for him in the long run. "Yeah, it could be."_  
****  
He'd known it was the beginning of the end at that moment. The minute he decided it was better to admit the truth than to say what they were doing was wrong, it all fell downhill. His own cowardliness had once again put Granger in danger. It had never bothered him before. Not when he turned her over to Umbridge, not when he'd done countless other things in their years at school to hurt her, but now it did. It wasn't long before he realized, once again, the insanity of his family. He also realized, possibly for the first time... he may actually love Hermione Granger. If he wasn't sure of his feelings before, her courage under torture that would've destroyed anyone else made him love her.   
****  
 _"Wait," his aunt had said as Greyback started to lead Granger, Potter, and Weasley toward he cellar, "All except…" Draco watched his aunt's eyes roam over the three of them hoping she'd choose Weasley, "for the Mudblood."_

_His heart sank at her last words. Granger would never tell her anything, he knew that. She'd never give into torture. She was too strong, too loyal. Weasley would've been the better choice, one Crucio, and he'd be telling them what they wanted to know. "No! You can have me, keep me!" Weasley shouted, apparently agreeing with him for once, that he was the better option to torture, although, he did have to admit to a little respect for Weasley's attempt to protect his friend. It wasn't as if he could possibly believe that Bellatrix wouldn't be able to hurt or kill him._

_Draco tried to get her attention. He tried to tell her, without speaking, to just give his aunt something, anything so she wouldn't torture her anymore than necessary. His aunt would probably still torture her for enjoyment but why provoke her. He watched his aunt drag her by her hair and toss her to the middle of the room as the others were thrown in the cellar with the other prisoners. He could hear Weasley shouting and resisted the urge to go curse him into silence. Shouting was only going to encourage his aunt. Granger tried to stand up, but his aunt was faster. She wasn't going to get away, yet Draco could see she wasn't going to give in either. She stared at Bellatrix, refusing to look away._

_"I'm going to ask you again! Where did you get this sword? **Where**?" Bellatrix screamed, wand pointing at Hermione._

_"We found it—we found it—PLEASE!" Hermione screamed. Draco winced as his aunt once again applied the Cruciatus curse. He wanted to go to Granger, to tell her to lie. He wanted her to just tell his aunt something, anything to make the torture stop._

_"You are lying, filthy Mudblood, and I know it! You have been inside my vault at Gringotts! Tell the truth, **tell the truth**!"_

_Draco closed his eyes, trying to block out the screaming. He could hear Weasley shouting again from the basement as well. It only angered Bellatrix more._

_"What else did you take?" What else have you got? Tell me the truth or, I swear, I shall run you through with this knife!"_

_Draco's eyes flew open to see his aunt had traded her wand for the sword. Not even Hermione Granger could withstand that thing through her chest and he had no doubt his aunt would be aiming to kill._

_Hermione started to crawl backwards, away from the sword. Toward him. He wanted to stop this, stop it all, but he couldn’t, he had no illusions about his aunt. Bellatrix wouldn't hesitate to kill him in the name of the Dark Lord if she thought he would betray her. "If you kill her she can't tell you anything," he pointed out. "Impaling her is a bad idea."_

_Bellatrix stared at him for several seconds. Draco released a sigh of relief, she was obviously considering what he said. Slowly she set the sword aside and picked up her wand again. Hermione was nearly behind him now. "Wait, let me move her closer, I don't want to be hit accidentally."_

_He bent down next to Hermione. "Come on, Mudblood, no hiding," he said loudly as he lifted her to his arms. There was no way she'd be able to walk right now. Whispering softly as he carried her, "Just make something up, Granger; make something up and she'll stop." If he knew what his aunt wanted to know he'd tell her what to say. Anything to stop this now. For the first time he actually regretted Dumbledore's death. There was no one to stop this now. He could feel her stiffen in his arms. She was weak, but he could see her trying to speak. "Don't. Just give her something so she'll stop before she kills you."_

_He set her back on the floor at his aunt's feet. "I'm sorry," he whispered as he stood and stepped away._

_"What else did you take, what else? ANSWER ME! CRUCIO!"_

_He'd never seen the curse applied to someone for so long before. Even his father was looking away now. But still his aunt wasn't stopping and Granger wasn't giving in. Just screaming. He'd never heard anyone scream so loudly or with so much pain evident in their voice before. He turned away, he couldn't watch this anymore._

_Then the screaming stopped. "How did you get into my vault? Did that dirty little goblin in the cellar help you?"_

_"We only met him tonight!" he heard her sob, "We've never been inside your vault…It isn't the real sword! It's a copy, just a copy!"_

_"A copy?" His aunt questioned, "Oh, a likely story!"_

_"But we can find out easily!" his father offered. "Draco, fetch the goblin, he can tell us whether the sword is real or not!"_

_Draco started toward the cellar door. He prayed that Granger was telling the truth that the sword was fake. Or at least that the goblin would lie for her. She was nearly unconscious as it was; he wasn't sure she could take much more. Or that his aunt would stop short of killing her much longer._

_He stopped outside the door. "Stand back. Line up against the back wall. Don't try anything, or I'll kill you!" He waited several seconds before opening the door. Everyone had moved back as he had asked. The goblin was at the far end. He moved slowly wanting to warn Potter, even release him but knowing it would do no good. His aunt would just kill them all. None of them were armed. He grabbed the goblin's arm and pulled him from the room._

_His aunt was once again applying Crucio to Hermione. No longer asking her questions now though, it was just for the enjoyment of it. How had he ever wanted to be part of this? How had he been so convinced that this was the right way to live? He heard the crack of someone apparating in the cellar. It was impossible though, right? No one could apparate in or out of the cellar. Too dangerous. Had Potter found a way out? Would help be arriving? Did Granger stand a chance of getting out alive?_

_"Draco—no, call Wormtail! Make him go check!" His father ordered him. He complied, as slowly as he dared. If there was a chance of Potter getting out he wanted to give him all the time he could. They all waited silently while Wormtail went to check on the prisoners. That didn't last long though, Granger was starting to come to, and his aunt pointed her wand at her again. Once again he tried to block out her screams._

_Then Bellatrix's attention turned once again to the goblin. "Well? Is it the true sword?"_

_"No," Draco let out the breath he'd be holding. "It is a fake."_

_"Are you sure? Quite sure?"_

_"Yes."_

_Draco saw the relief flood his aunt's face. Whatever that sword was, whatever else was in her vault was safe. Or at least she believed it was. It was still possible the goblin was lying of course. "And now, we call the Dark Lord!" She pushed her sleeve back and touched the mark on her arm, summoning the Dark Lord to them. "And I think we can dispose of the Mud-blood. Greyback, take her if you want her."_

_This was too much, Draco started to step forward when Weasley burst through the doorway yelling, "NOOOOOOOOOOO!" His aunt turned toward him, Draco watched as Weasley raised his wand, Wormtail's wand, "Expelliarmus!"_

_Bellatrix's wand flew from her hand, and landed neatly in Potter's outstretched hand. As everyone wheeled about trying to figure out what had happened, he heard Potter yell "Stupefy!" Then he saw his father fall to the ground. He saw his mother and Greyback point their wands at Potter, and using the commotion Draco raised his own wand and pointed started to look around for his aunt. So many spells flying around no one would know it was him._

_"STOP OR SHE DIES!" Draco lowered his wand as he saw the knife at Granger's throat. "Drop your wands," she whispered, "Drop them, or we'll see exactly how filthy her blood is!"_

_Draco silently willed them to do as she said. Hoping they took her seriously, his aunt was unbalanced on the best of days. This was not the time to test her. "I said drop them!" she screeched as Draco saw drops of blood forming around the blade at Granger's neck.  
Weasley and Potter dropped the wands they were holding. "Good! Draco, pick them up! The Dark Lord is coming, Harry Potter! Your death approaches!"_

_Draco gathered the wands and hurried back to his aunt. Handing them over, as his aunt addressed his mother. She wanted to tie Potter and Weasley up and give Granger to Greyback. Let this be one of those times that Potter's infernal luck kicks in, he prayed silently. As she finished speaking a noise came from the chandelier above their heads. They all looked up, he could see it begin to fall as Bellatrix threw Hermione away from her and dived away from it. It was going to fall directly on Hermione. Draco rushed toward her as it hit the ground and shattered scattering glass everywhere. Several pieces hitting his face, he could feel the blood and the cuts. Blood flowing into his eyes he tried to wipe it away, was she all right? He saw Weasley pull her from the wreckage. While he was trying to ascertain that she was indeed alive Potter lunged at him, and grabbed the wands from his hands. All of them, his included. He heard Potter yell "Stupefy!" once again and Greyback fell to the ground as his mother pulled him away from the fighting._

_His aunt got her to feet, knife in her hand, her attention quickly followed his mother's to the doorway. "Dobby!" His mother screamed. "You! **You** dropped the chandelier--?"_

_Everything happened so fast after that. More fighting, he saw his aunt stab their former House elf. Weasley apparated taking Granger with him, Potter grabbed the goblin and the injured elf and disappeared himself, seconds before the Dark Lord appeared._  
****  
He hadn't seen them again after that day. He'd heard rumors, of course. Potter was going to defeat the Dark Lord. The Dark Lord would kill Potter. They were already dead. He hadn't known which to believe. They were all injured when they'd gotten away, but he didn't know how badly. He'd returned to school and tried to pretend everything was going to be fine. Pretended to be the perfect Slytherin, a Death Eater's son; loyal to the Dark Lord. While all the time hoping that Potter would succeed. 

He reached the Room of Requirement and concentrated on finding the door to the Room of Hidden Things, when a hand reached out and grabbed him. "You came to find them too?" Goyle's voice whispered his ear. "They're going to see you."

Damn, he had to do something. He couldn't let them know why he was really here. "I—I was hoping I'd get in before they got here."

"Diss-lusion yourself," Goyle commanded.

"Yeah," Crabbe whispered. "We're going to catch Potter."

Draco had barely cast the charm on himself and pressed against the wall when Potter walked by, followed by Granger and Weasley. They waited until the door appeared and followed them inside. He considered his options now. He could try to immobilize Crabbe and Goyle but despite everything they were his friends for a very long time and cursing them seemed wrong. He wasn't even sure that anything other than an Unforgivable would even stop them completely and he wasn't ready to do that. He could say something, try to warn Potter. He had to be careful though, they may not be overly intelligent but if he was too obvious they'd catch on, they were no longer simply his sidekicks. 

They followed behind slowly, careful not to make any sound as Potter searched for the diadem that he seemed so determined to find. Draco watched as Potter found what he was looking for and stretched out his arm to grab it. Crabbe raising his own wand to…Draco wasn't sure but he had to stop him or warn Potter somehow. "Hold it, Potter." 

He watched through the small space between his friends, wand pointed toward Potter. It worked, Crabbe dropped his wand to his side, and Potter turned to face them. "That's my wand you're holding, Potter." He pointed out. He just needed to stall for time. Just give Weasley and Granger time to realize something was wrong and come looking for their friend. The commotion of so many spells would give him the chance to help them get away, to warn them. 

"Not anymore. Winners, keepers, Malfoy. Who's lent you theirs?" 

Good keep him talking. The talking would keep Crabbe from attacking. Fortunately his friends were easily distracted. "My mother." 

"So how come you three aren't with Voldemort?" 

"We're gonna be rewarded," Crabbe offered. "We 'ung back, Potter. We decided not to go. Decided to bring you to 'im." 

"Good plan," Potter said. Draco frowned at the obvious mocking tone. Why did he have to antagonize them. "So how did you get in here?" 

"I virtually lived in the Room of Hidden Things all last year. I know how to get in."

"We was hiding in the corridor outside," Goyle said. "We can do Diss-lusion Charms now! And then, you turned up right in front of us and said you was looking for a die-dum! What's a die-dum?"

"Harry?" Weasley's voice suddenly echoed from the other side of the wall. "Are you talking to someone?" Why couldn't Weasley ever think before he spoke. If he heard voices wouldn't it be obvious something had gone wrong?

Before Potter could respond, Draco saw Crabbe's arm shoot out and his wand was pointed at the wall. "Descendo!"

Draco raises his own wand to try to stop the spell when he heard Potter yell, "Ron!" his own wand pointed at the wall, "Finite!"

"No!" Draco shouted as Crabbe raised his wand once again to repeat the spell. He pushed Crabbe's arm to the side, "If you wreck the room you might bury this diadem thing!" Or kill Granger or Potter or Weasley and any chance for his future. 

"What's the matter?" Crabbe asked. "It's Potter the Dark Lord wants, who cares about a die-dum?" 

"Potter came in here to get it," he pointed out. Disgusted at how easily his friend could kill. "So that must mean—"

"Must mean? Who cares what you think? I don't take your orders no more, Draco. You an' your dad are finished." 

"Harry?" Weasley shouted again. Draco hid a groan of disgust. Did the wall actually need to fall on the nitwit for him to catch on? "What's going on?"

"Harry?" Crabbe mimicked. "What's going—no, Potter! Crucio!" 

Draco flinched, expecting the curse to hit Potter as he lunged for the tiara. It missed but shattered the bust it had been balancing on. He watched the tiara fly into the air and land in a pile of junk. Crabbe raised his wand again and Draco shouted, "STOP! The Dark Lord wants him alive—"

"So? I'm not killing him, am I?" This was getting out of hand. He couldn't control them anymore, not without his father's name behind him…and that wasn't worth much anymore. "But if I can, I will, the Dark Lord wants him dead anyway, what's the diff--?"

A jet of red flew past Potter's head, Draco pushed Crabbe out of the way as his eyes went to the source of the stunning spell. Granger was here and uninjured. "It's the Mudblood! Avada Kedavra!" Crabbe shouted. He tried to knock him out of the way as Granger dived to the side, avoiding the curse. Potter shot a stunning spell at them, knocking Draco's wand from his hand. 

"Don't kill him! DON'T KILL HIM!" He yelled as both Goyle and Crabbe aimed their wands at Potter's head. 

The second of hesitation was all Potter needed and he disarmed Goyle. Draco jumped to the side as Granger shot another stunning spell his way; falling behind a wardrobe where he crouched and watched; ready to jump in if necessary but being wandless, hiding was his best option. 

"Avada Kedavra!" Draco wasn't sure who that was aimed at, either Weasley or Granger but both jumped out of way. Granger lunging toward them and stunning Goyle at the same time. 

"It's somewhere here!" Potter yelled at Hermione. "Look for it while I go and help R—"

"Harry!" She screamed. Draco turned to see what she was looking at. Crabbe and Weasley were running, being chased by…he didn't. He wouldn't? Would he? Fiendfyre was chasing them. Had Crabbe been foolish enough to cast such an uncontrollable dark spell? 

He grabbed Goyle and tried to run. Everything was happening so fast. The fire was getting closer and he couldn't carry Goyle very far, he was too big, too heavy. Next thing he knew Potter was sweeping along side of him pulling him up on his broom as Weasley and Granger grabbed Goyle and pulled him up. He barely had time to register that Crabbe had been consumed by the flames. When they landed in the corridor it started to sink in that his friend was dead. Granger helped prop Goyle against the wall and briefly look at him. "Malfoy…"

"Go," he muttered as he sunk to the floor, "Go. Stop him." He could see the confusion her eyes. Had she realized what he had tried to do? He wanted to say more, wanted to warn her, tell her more, but he couldn't it was all too much.

00oo00oo00oo00oo00oo00

Draco sat on the dirty floor, huddled in the corner. He'd somehow never considered the chance he could be sent to Azkaban. He should've realized it was possible. He was the son of a Death Eater; he was present at the final battle. In all the commotion, the fact that he didn’t fight wouldn't have been noticed, all they knew was that he was a Slytherin, a possible Death Eater, facts weren't that important in the hours immediately following Voldemort's death. Voldemort had been using his family's home as a headquarters of sorts for months. 

Of course, he was sent to Azkaban. Three months he'd been here. Three months in this hell. He supposed he should be happy that the Dementors were no longer guarding this place. Aurors and various magical creatures, spells, and charms, were currently keeping them all in here. He had been told that his case would go to trial before the Wizenmagot soon, and that someone was on his case. Not someone from the Ministry but someone had been pleading his case, almost since the day he was sent here. 

"Malfoy," an auror whose name he couldn't remember approached his cell. "You have a visitor." 

Draco frowned. A visitor? His parents were locked up here as well as most everyone else he'd even think would come visit him, those that hadn't died anyway. He stood up and brushed absently at his dirty robes, not that it would do any good. "Who?" 

"Follow me," the auror pushed open the cell door and walked ahead of Draco. They didn’t bother restraining them, it was pointless, they were all weakened from being here, they were unarmed, and the aurors had their wands as well as other weapons and protection. They just assumed prisoners would do as they said. Draco did; he followed him to a small room with no windows and a dirty table in the center. "Sit." 

Draco did as he was told still trying to work out in his mind who would visit him. He knew his father had made arrangements for someone to try to plead their case, get them released but as far as he was aware, all of that was going through his father. No one had asked to speak to him before. He looked up when the door opened, his mouth dropping open in shock. Of all the people he expected to see here…all the people he'd hoped to see…

"Granger?" 

"Ummm, Hi, Malfoy," she said moving closer to the table. 

"What—Why?" He stopped, not even sure what it was he wanted to ask her. It was like a dream that she was even here. He'd resigned himself to dying here or at the very least being released and never seeing her again because she believed he was an evil git who had tried to kill her and her friends. "Granger, why are you here?"

"Because," now it was her turn to hesitate. Draco had never seen her look so confused and nervous before. "Because I'm not sure you still belong here." 

"My family couldn't have been more eager to turn you over to Voldemort," Draco pointed out miserably, he belonged here, he knew that. "I made six years of your life hell. Crabbe and Goyle tried to kill you. My aunt tortured you."

"Exactly," she said softly. "You could've turned us over to them. You knew it was us the second you turned around. I know that. But you didn't, why?"

Should he be honest? Did he tell her he'd fallen in love with her? He'd lost everything already; all he had left was the little sliver of pride that he'd managed to hold on to, did he risk that by telling her the truth? If he was sincere would she believe him? "Maybe I didn’t want Greyback to get credit for finding you. Turning you in would certainly have improved our standing with the Dark Lord." He was still too much a Malfoy and a Slytherin to take that risk. 

"Then why stop your aunt from killing me?" She asked after watching him for several seconds. "And Goyle, I saw you try to knock him out of the way. And you told me to stop Voldemort when we got out of the Room of Requirement."

"Maybe I wanted the pleasure of killing you myself," he suggested. "And blood is so messy. Aunt Bellatrix was going to stab you; it would've ruined the carpet."

Hermione closed her eyes and he could see her counting to ten, trying to control her temper. "Look Malfoy," she said when she opened her eyes again, "I am probably the only person that can get you out of here. Your father, mother, grandfather, aunts, cousins, and pretty much everyone you've ever had any sort of lasting contact with were Death Eaters. You tried to kill Dumbledore; you let Death Eaters into Hogwarts. The Malfoy name is worth nothing anymore. I am, however, a hero. I helped defeat the man who has been terrorizing the Wizarding World for years. I can convince the Wizenmagot that you're changed, that you were no longer serving Voldemort, which is what I suspect. If you won't be honest, if you can't let go of your Slytherin pride for two minutes and show just a trace of honesty and sincerity I can't help you." 

"A little sincerity can be dangerous," he said looking at her intently. Was she telling the truth? Did she want to help him? Could he actually get out of here? 

"Then try a lot of it, Malfoy," she suggested. "I don't have time for this. If you can't be honest then I'm leaving and you can rot here." 

He watched her stand up and head for the door. He should let her go. Being rejected for telling her the truth would be much worse than dying in prison. He was sure too much sincerity would be positively fatal... at least to his pride. Just let her go and forget she was ever here. Forget there was a chance that she cared, even if it was only enough to not want him to rot in prison if he may have changed. "Granger—Hermione, wait."

"Ready to be honest?" She asked, hand on the door.

He took a deep breath. This was a dangerous path he was treading. He had no reason to believe she returned his feelings at all. She shouldn't return them, he'd done nothing but hurt her for years. "You're not going to like what I say." 

"I don't have to like it, as long as it's the truth. Why did you try to protect us, Draco?" She walked back over to the table and sat in the chair across from him. "What could be so horrible that you would rather stay here than tell me?" 

"Humiliation, disgust, repulsion," Draco offered with a half-hearted smile.

"You're in prison," she pointed out, "this is the most disgusting place I've ever seen. What could disgust and repulse you more than this place?"

"It's my humiliation, your disgust and repulsion. You're going to hate me."

She closed her eyes again. It was obvious she was trying to choose her words carefully. "Look Malfoy, you spent six years insulting me yet I'm here trying to save you. If being constantly called a Mudblood didn't make me hate you, I can't imagine what you think you have to say that would."

She didn't hate him? Why didn’t she? He'd found one way or another to hurt her since their first year. She should despise him. He wasn't going to fool himself that she was in love with him too. She had no reason to be. She'd earned his admiration and respect over the last two years; he'd nothing to earn hers. She'd proven herself to be strong, loyal, powerful, and good. He'd done nothing but prove himself to be a weak coward. But if she didn’t hate him…

"I didn't want Voldemort to win," Draco said and rushed on before she could interrupt or he could lose his nerve. "I realized something the day he told me he'd kill my family. My father was wrong, they were all wrong. I just didn't have the courage to do anything about it. I wanted to stop it all. I almost came to you and Potter sixth year. I was going to tell you everything. I wanted to, but I couldn't...too many Slytherins watching me. If they saw me with you they'd tell their parents and…"

"Draco," Hermione said softly, reaching across the table and taking his hand. "You could've gone to Snape…or Dumbledore. They'd have protected you."

"Protected me, yes," he admitted. "Although I didn't know that Snape would until it was too late. But they wouldn't have protected my family. My parents were Death Eaters and weren't going to change. But I wasn't done. There's more." He wasn't sure how to proceed. These things were hard for him to admit to himself, and out loud was nearly impossible for him. He was risking humiliation. Knowing inside that he was weak and admitting it to someone else, to someone that he loved, was completely different. He resisted the urge to fidget as she stared at him.

"Okay…" She sat back and waited while he chose his words again.

"I couldn't ask for help, so I looked for other ways out. I hoped if I tried and failed enough Voldemort would have someone else do it. I knew my attempts were pathetic. I knew someone would find Bell, that Dumbledore would never drink wine received anonymously. I watched you a lot. I wanted to be caught so I watched you and tried to do everything I could to make you suspicious. But you never were. You never paid any attention."

"Harry did," she admitted. "Harry badgered us all term about you being up to something.

"But that didn't go any good, and stop interrupting," Draco said as he continued his story. "You never paid attention to me. The one time I wanted to get caught and you were oblivious. But in all that watching I realized something. Something big that I didn’t want to be true but the more I watched the more true it became. You weren't the annoying little Know-it-all that bested me in everything. Or you were, but it was different. You were still brilliant of course, and powerful. That's why I wanted you, not Potter to catch me at first. But you were beautiful and kind, and genuinely cared about the people in your life. That isn't something I see a lot of. Slytherins care about themselves above all else. Crabbe, Goyle, Pansy, Zabini they're my friends but not like you have friends. They were my friends because of my standing, my name. Who my father was in Voldemort's circle."

Hermione started to open her mouth to speak but he held up his hand to stop her. "Let me finish please or I won't be able to. All of those qualities, all so foreign to me, so different from what I was raised to prize in a person were pulling me toward you. I became obsessed with you, watching you long after I'd given up hope of getting your help. Eventually I had to admit to myself that I liked you. I told myself it was just a crush and it was ridiculous that I'd finish school and marry Pansy and you'd be forgotten or…killed. You were a Mud—Muggle-born, after all."

He stopped there, unsure if he could continue. She hadn't run screaming from him when he admitted to a crush. Should he go on? Should he risk everything? He didn't hold hope of her returning his feelings, but maybe she wouldn't be repulsed. The worst that could happen is that she'd be horrified and leave him to rot in Azkaban. 

"Draco?" She asked, "Umm, I'm sorry I wasn't able to help you back then. I just really didn't notice that you needed help. I should have listened to Harry. So much would've been different if we'd known…"

"And my little obsession?"

"Well, I don't know what to say," she frowned. "I guess I'm flattered. Boys don't usually notice anything other than my being smart and can help with their homework."

"There's more," he said leaning forward. She was flattered. It was a start so he could continue. "Do you want to hear it?"

"Of course. I understand more now," she admitted. "And I was right, you had changed your mind, just didn't know how to get out of the situation. I might as well hear the rest. Whatever I can take to the Wizenmagot could help to get you out of here."

"Right, well this won't help get me out, but I've gone this far," he said, "I heard all the stories about you that summer. You were on the run. You'd gotten away when the Weasley's home was attacked. You broke into the Ministry. You were getting close to destroying him. I watched every story closely, wanting so desperately for you to be safe…and for you to win. To save us all. For Potter to save us. Then you showed up at my home that Easter. You had been caught. Aunt Bellatrix tried to torture you and you still wouldn’t give in. Wouldn't talk. It was then that I realized it wasn't just a crush; I was in love with you. That's why I couldn't let her kill you; why I had to stop Crabbe and Goyle. I couldn't let them kill you." 

He stopped then and looked at her. She wasn't running away. She wasn't yelling at him, or slapping him. Or cursing him; he'd noticed they hadn't taken her wand away. Was that a good thing? Or was she just in shock? Would Potter and Weasley be back in a few hours to kill him for her? 

"Hermione?" He asked when she didn't speak. "Say something? I knew sincerity wasn't the way to go. You probably think it was all just a huge lie to get out of here, right?"

"No," she said quietly. "I believe you."

"You do?" 

She smiled slightly. "Yeah. The ultimate Pureblood Slytherin is in love with the know-it-all Gryffindor. It's just too…You'd never have made that up."

He wasn't sure what to say now. It was all out there. Everything and she was still here. She didn't even seem angry. In some ways it was a relief to get that all out of his system. It was out there, now. Maybe he could move on, assuming she still wanted to get him released. "Look I know you don't like me, and certainly don't love me…" 

"I won't lie," she admitted. "I don’t like or love you. But things change Draco. You proved that by saving me…us."

"So you might love me eventually?" He asked hopefully.

"Let's get you out of here first," she suggested. "And work on us being in the same room without drawing wands and see where it goes, okay?"

"I can live with that." 

"Then I'll see you at your hearing," she said standing up. "Thank you for being honest Draco." 

Draco watched her walk out, closing the door behind her. For the first time in over a year he was able to completely grasp on to the idea that his life had not been destroyed by Lord Voldemort.

The end.


End file.
